Price of Loyalty
by Square and Tear
Summary: It's been 150 years after the landing of the Axiom, and Earth is ravaged again by the fires of war. WALL-E, EVE, and most of their friends have disappeared, simply wishing to be left alone. Little do they know, mercenaries have been hired to track them down, as the love-bound couple could determine humanity's fate once more. For an aging mercenary corporal, it's just another job.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

When the Earth became re-populated thanks to the efforts of WALL-E and EVE, humanity seemed to have a bright future to look forward to. As the years passed, civilization slowly but surely regained its once glorious status, and nature returned to its pristine state, leaving no trace of the environmental crisis that had forced humanity's evacuation so many years ago. United in a common effort for peace and prosperity, mankind and machine grew stronger. A government, guided by the tireless efforts of WALL-E and EVE, was created; Captain McCrea assumed the responsibility of leading this new government, with the intention of learning from the past mistakes of former human leaders. All seemed right with the world.

However, human nature is intertwined with the lust for conquest. It was not long before debate, and eventually disagreement, arose between the political figure within the Earth Government. Disagreement soon turned into secession, then all-out war. Mercenaries, eager to make a profit amidst the carnage and destruction, were thrust into the fray at the whim of warlords, tyrants, and supposedly noble politicians whose motives they cared little for. WALL-E and EVE disappeared; whether they were scared by this newly discovered dark side of humanity, or if they were following orders from the Captain, no one could say for certain.

The year is 2955, and the war for Earth rages on. Stalemate is setting in, and the factions of humanity are growing desperate. The tactics of each side are growing increasingly unconventional in the hope that the conflict will finally tip in their favor. Sigma Intervention, one of the largest Private Military Corporations in the world, is becoming more relied upon to do the dirty work of political leaders; the mercenaries they employ essentially survive and thrive because of the war's existence. Ironically, the corporation recently received a contract offer from a mysterious client to conduct an operation that could possibly end the conflict: the capture of WALL-E and EVE. The reward? One billion credits.


	2. Chapter 1 - Blood and Business

_"...if one holds his state on the basis of mercenary arms, he will never be firm or secure" - Nicolo Machiavelli_

_"Maximum security and stability at minimal cost and casualty." - Sigma Intervention motto, 2900_

* * *

__Chapter 1: Blood and Business

**May 4, 2955 **

**4:00 p.m**.

**New Chicago Outer Perimeter**

"So why did you decide to become a mercenary old man?", a young soldier asked a lone figure in the corner of the dropship. The recruit looked inspired. Full of hope. Something their Captain would've proud of. For the eighty-year old mercenary, he could care less.

He grunted. "Pays the bills."

"That's it? I mean, you're not fighting to keep Earth the way it was, you know, like the way old Captain McCrea wanted it to be?"

The soldier-for-hire could tell this boy was a Lander, just by the way he spoke. Landers were an idealistic bunch, mostly sticking to the long-dead Captain McCrea's guidelines. After the Axiom's landing more than a century ago, everyone wanted to make Earth beautiful again. They succeeded, for the most part. Sure, civilization got rebuilt and the environment got restored, but those bots and the Captain's descendants made one mistake: trying to change a man from the inside. Those love-bots never expected a human leader to get greedy, and that mistake cost the life of McCrea's son.

"I'm not here to talk philosophy, kid. If I wanted to do that, I would've gotten a bio-implant for that too.", the corporal replied, his voice static as a result of his helmet's speaker.

"Well, I'm just glad you're riding with us sir."

"Why's that?"

"Because you're gonna help us to kick some Scrapper butt, right?"

"As long as-"

The corporal was cut short by a violent shaking, as the dropship took several grazing hits from flak cannons. Though the ballistic rounds bounced off harmlessly against the ship's shields, the Lander soldiers were noticeably taken aback by the amount of resistance the Scrappers were giving. Despite being looked upon as little more than an organized gang, the Scrappers were more resourceful than the other factions of Earth thought. The ability to acquire and restore war relics and manufacture the ammunition for them, coupled with their ferocity against machines made them a formidable enemy. The Landers seemed to be paying in blood and soil for underestimating the ragtag crew of bot haters, since they needed help to retake one of their lost outposts near the city perimeter. No wonder why Landers were paying mercenaries to help get the job done. The corporal never dwelled on these things for long though, and before any of the soldiers could respond, he already had his flight pack strapped onto his back.

Amid shouts of protest from his fellow passengers, he opened the side door of the dropship. The door slid open with a sharp hiss, and the corporal was met with a blackened sky, mixed with the bright orange glow of the occasional destroyed Lander air vehicle, and ripe with the staccato of explosion after explosion. Almost nonchalantly, he jumped out of the Lander vessel, intent on landing near his target. Using his hover pack almost as a rower would an oar, he guided himself towards the designated objective with small bursts of micro-gravity. Once he reached a suitable distance above the bulls-eye he shifted position so that the bottom of his feet were facing towards the ground. The hum of the anti-gravity generator inside the corporal's backpack increased in intensity as his flight pack strained to soften his landing. His armored boots hit the ground with a soft thud, several meters behind an oblivious flak cannon crew of four 'machine killers' who were too busy enjoying the carnage they were inflicting. Cautiously, the corporal withdrew a small cylindrical object from his utility belt, and tossed it into the middle of the gun crew. For a few seconds, the group of rebels were consumed with utter horror before they were engulfed in a blue inferno of plasma, not even uttering a single scream as their bodies were disintegrated into a neat pile of ashes. Clean and efficient, same as always. The corporal pressed against the built-in comm unit in his helmet to relay his progress.

"Command, anti-aircraft position eliminated. Proceeding towards the rendezvous point.", the corporal radioed after taking a look around for any remaining Scrappers. Judging from his surroundings, this area of the city perimeter was more lightly defended than intelligence had expected. Most of the Scrapper forces were probably trying to bleed Lander troops dry by slowing their advance to a crawl in the city streets. As the corporal moved into the nearest building, he heard the buzz of an incoming response from his superiors.

"Negative, Corporal. Your new objective is to clear the way for an armored convoy heading towards the main contingent of Scrapper forces, which are holed up in buildings all along its path. Clear 'em out, or bring 'em down if necessary. Once you're done, link up with the rest of your squad and capture the Scrapper leader for memory splicing."

"Any civilians in the area sir?", the corporal said through gritted teeth. During these kinds of operations, EVE units (which were upgraded to serve combat roles) tended to take the glory.

"If they're not dead, evacuated, or turncoat, leave 'em for the EVE teams to pick up. Your primary objective is to capture that leader before those plant-loving Lander boys do."

"Affirmative, sir.", the corporal acknowledged before the comm line fell silent again. After making sure that the building was entirely empty, he took up position on the rooftop. The corporal activated his flight pack, and began systematically hopping from one roof to another, clearing each building of its inhabitants, block by block. Most of buildings were empty, but a few were filled with some unlucky sentries that the mercenary easily dispatched. Once the corporal reached the row of buildings nearest to the Lander convoy, it was a very different situation. The line of armored vehicles had been caught in crossfire, as Scrapper troops rained down a storm of laser fire from all sides. Charred bodies of soldiers lay strewn about the street in a grotesque fashion, human and machine alike. The corporal even caught sight of the signature white plating of EVE units as they gave covering fire for the wounded. One probe's head disappeared in a shower of blue sparks, most likely from a shot by a marksman.

The corporal scoffed, "Elite unit. Yeah right."

While the group of bot killers were occupied, the corporal pulled out a small grey sphere. After pressing a button, the sphere expanded. Once it started emanating a blue light, the corporal chucked it into the backdoor of the nearest building. From outside, he could hear a mechanical voice coming from the object. He wasn't sure whether it was some sick joke or not.

"Attention! This bomb contains flesh-eating nanobots! It will detonate in three...two...one...have a nice day!" a cheerful female voice replied.

The corporal could hear screams mixed with the whirring sound of a buzz-saw through flesh. When he opened the door, several dead bodies were covered in a grey goo, and were being broken down, cell by cell. All around the convoy, buildings that once were filled with soldiers intent on murdering the Lander troops grew silent, except for the screams of the dying. The corporal knew all too well that other mercenaries had delivered their 'packages' as well. Now all the convoy had to do was pick up the pieces. While the Lander troops advanced unopposed, the mercenary team regrouped in an eight-story building near the makeshift enemy base. Although all of the team wore helmets that hid their faces, the corporal knew he would see an expression of worry on each of them. They were running out of time, and all of them knew it. After a quick head count, they went over the plan one last time.

"Let's keep this simple and by the books people. There's about fifty elite guards in that building. I want Sanchez and Michaels to take up sniping positions in here, and pick off any patrolling guards and marksmen. I don't want any of us to end up like that probe.", said the team leader.

There were a few chuckles exchanged at the mention of the unfortunate EVE unit. Even the corporal cracked a smile underneath his helmet. Ever since the Landers got desperate enough to convert those blasted bots from reconnaissance to active combat operations, they started getting overconfident. Who in the right mind would take on a team of highly trained killer robots with enough firepower to level a city block? Apparently the Lander brass hadn't accounted for human tenacity. That's when they started hiring mercenaries.

"Cut the chatter! Ryker! I want you and Dregs to keep us updated on the Lander convoy's progress! Make sure our exit is ready once they get within 100 meters of the base! The rest of you, with me!", Sergeant Zidek bellowed.

After each group got into position, they waited for the signal. Two heavily armored guards hefting large plasma cannons patrolled around the building, most likely the vanguard of the Scrapper army. Several lightly armored soldiers were busy setting up defenses in an attempt to make a last stand. There were probably more inside, ready to kill anyone or anything that entered. Zidek's voice broke the tense silence.

"Snipers, as soon as I give the signal, take out the heavies. I want everyone else to concentrate fire on the regulars. Once we breach, move fast and check your corners."

A brief pause. The calm before the storm.

"Now!", the Sergeant's command cut through the air, and both snipers fired almost simultaneously. Two magnetically propelled rounds flew through the air like sharks through water, eager for blood. The rounds struck home, and embedded themselves in the foreheads of the two elite bodyguards. The rest of the Scrappers dropped dead, riddled with railgun fire. The mercenary team emerged from cover, and made sure each of their targets were dead. After planting explosives at the base of the building (to leave no evidence of their involvement) each mercenary readied the built-in hover packs in their power armor. The packs only had enough juice to propel them halfway up the 20-story building, so the mercenaries were going to have to fight to the top once they reached the tenth floor. A routine snatch-and-grab, hopefully.

"Dregs! Ryker! How much time?"

"Convoy's about thirty clicks from your position Sarge.", Private Dregs answered calmly. Dregs was always the more patient and reserved of the team, which made him the ideal person for technical operations.

"Bird's on its way now sir, recommend you grab that Scrapper prick ASAP.", replied Corporal Ryker. Unlike Dregs, Ryker was a bit short-tempered when it came to interferences with his paycheck. Still, he only scratched his itchy trigger finger when he was told to do so.

"Affirmative. Keep us updated.", replied the sergeant.

When they mercenaries reached the tenth floor, they blew open an entrance and flew through. Then all hell broke loose. One merc took a direct hit to his chest by an ion cannon, which left a burnt hole in place of his internal organs. Unbeknownst to the mercenaries, the Landers had sent in specialized EVE commandos in advance. Unlike the bright white of regular probes, these units were jet-black and had eyes of varying colors. They had apparently entered the building through stealth, and were now engaged in a pitched battle with Scrapper elites; the sudden entrance of the mercenaries now made it a three-way battle. The corporal cursed his luck while he took cover.

"Dammit. I'm getting too old for this!", said the corporal as he chucked one of his EMP grenades over his head. The blast deactivated some of the probes, and rendered one of the Scrappers immobile in his power suit. This only seemed to make both the commando EVEs and machine killers fight even harder.

"Death to the vile machine cretins! Stain the walls black with their oil!", yelled one of the Scrapper bodyguards.

The EVE commandos responded with their own inspiring quote in the form of robotic code, which translated to, "Remember our sister!"

"Old Man!", Zidek transmitted over the helmet comm line. The sergeant was busy using the corpse of a bodyguard as a human shield. Judging from the way the corpse's head was twisted, Zidek had likely broken the bodyguard's neck, and nearly pulled it off.

The corporal responded to his call-sign. "Sir?"

"You and Chess go after their leader! We'll keep them occupied! He's on the top floor; don't let him escape, or I'll make you wish you were dead! Everyone else, give Old Man and Chess some covering fire!", Zidek snarled.

Both mercenaries dashed to the barely functioning elevator. Chess and the Corporal emptied their clips trying to suppress anything and anyone that wasn't a mercenary, while the elevator doors creaked shut. The two guns for hire practically threw as many grenades as they could out the door once they reached the top floor, and took out a few bodyguards by surprise. This gave them just enough time to reach the Scrapper commander, who was only minutes away from vaporizing his own brain. Chess shot the gun out of the commander's hand, and the Corporal stunned him using his wrist-mounted taser. Chess hefted the paralyzed leader over his shoulder, and nodded to his partner.

"Sarge, we got him. Let's get-", the corporal's friend paused. Slowly, Chess looked down where his stomach should be, which was now occupied by a gaping hole. He fell forward, and nearly crushed the limp commander underneath him. The Corporal rolled to his side instinctively, barely dodging the second shot. He turned around, and fired his gauss rifle indiscriminately. What he saw surprised him, to say the least. It was a jet-black EVE commando, but unlike the others, this one had energy shielding. It's eyes were glaring a menacing shade of orange, and apparently it was very, very angry. The corporal had to roll out of the way before another ion blast scorched the spot he was previously in, and another blast destroyed the corporal's rifle, leaving him seemingly defenseless. The EVE probe hovered towards him, and beeped questioningly, as if asking for the corporal's last words. The answer the machine received was a fist jammed into its circular abdomen. The robot's eyes became static as the corporal activated the taser on his wrist, and the probe eventually collapsed, deactivated. The aging mercenary breathed a sigh of relief before lifting his dead partner off of the Scrapper leader.

After lifting the unconscious body onto his left shoulder, the corporal took one last look at his fallen comrade. Despite being one of the oldest mercenaries in the group, and thus seeing many other members come and go, the death of another fellow soldier still haunted him. After whispering a short prayer for Chess, he regrouped with the rest of his team. Two more mercenaries had been lost during the leader's capture, but both the EVE commandos and Scrapper bodyguards had been annihilated. The remainder of the team got to the extraction point, and sat in silence as the dropship carried them back to base. The only sound they heard was the hum of the ship's engines and the deafening explosion of the high-explosives that brought the former Scrapper base crashing to the ground. Once they arrived back at base, Sergeant Zidek finally said what was on all of their minds.

"Let's hope this bastard was worth it."

* * *

**(Author's note: This is my first story, so any constructive reviews will be very much appreciated. Let me know what you think of the story so far!)**

**(All WALL-E related material belongs to Disney and Pixar)**


	3. Chapter 2 - Fires of Hope

_"There is a time to take counsel of your fears, and there is a time to never listen to any fear." - General George S. Patton_

_"Sometimes the answer to your problems is a series of steps; one solution leads to another, and another, and so on." - Sigma Intervention R&D scientist Jeremiah Koss_

* * *

Chapter 2: Fires of Hope

**May 4th, 2955**

**10:40 p.m.**

**Lander Army base, 'McCrea', hospital **

Private Stephen "Ratz" awoke in a daze. All he remembered before he went unconscious was the sound of the dropship crashing into the ground, shortly after the mercenary he was talking to bailed out. After his eyesight cleared, the new recruit realized he was in a field hospital, amongst other wounded Landers. Stephen felt a tingling sensation around his chest, and heard the fading hum of a leaving robot. The private figured a D-FIB unit shocked him back to his senses, and left to resuscitate others in the hospital. He strained to sit upright, but lacked the strength to do so. Stephen collapsed on his bed in a worn-out heap, and closed his eyes in frustration.

"Save your strength, son. You need some rest.", said a gruff voice. When the young private reopened his eyes, he found an old friend standing over him.

"Captain Michaelson? What're you doing here sir?", the young private questioned.

"At ease, private; let's drop the formalities here. Intelligence tells me we hit the Scrappers pretty hard. I also heard we lost some EVE probes; that's a shame."

"Can't they be repaired?"

"I doubt it. Those blasted wasteland junkies managed to get hold of some of our weaponry. I'm afraid the technicians can't repair a molten pile of metal.", the Captain sighed. There was a long period of silence after his response, as if Michaelson was hiding more information. The private heard his friend mutter something, but decided to remain silent. The Captain noticed Stephen's concern, but told him only a partial amount of what was on his mind.

"We lost Elizabeth, Stephen. I'm sorry.", Michaelson said carefully.

The news hit the young private hard. Elizabeth, or 'Liz', was one of EVE's sisters, and one of Stephen's friends. She had been around when his grandfather John, was still alive, and saved his father's life when the war began. Out of all of Eve's sisters, she was the most impulsive, and energetic. After Eve disappeared, Liz joined the special division of the Lander military, hoping to end the war quickly for her sister's protection. Now that she was gone, Stephen's chest felt as if a great weight was placed upon it. Eve, wherever she was, would be devastated. He closed his eyes a second time, hoping that the world he knew would become nothing more than a bad dream. Before Private Stephen fell asleep, the Captain could barely make out a faint plea from his friend.

"WALL-E, EVE, wherever you are, we need you...Now more than ever."

* * *

**11:00 p.m.**

**Unknown Location**

EVE stared at the starry night sky, restless in the moonlight. This feeling had plagued her since the war began, and since the beginning of her forced exile with Wall-E. She wanted to stay; no, _needed_ stay, to fight for her friends and family. But Captain Michaelson had ordered her to relocate to safety with WALL-E, because he needed them to help rebuild when the war was over. That was fifty years ago. EVE began to sob softly, because every time she tried to think of the friends she had left behind, she could only wonder if they were alive or not. The feeling of

"Evah alright?" a voice called out to her, full of care and concern. WALL-E had been awoken seemingly by EVE's behavior, and this wasn't the first time. He took her hand in his, clutching it as if he held his own life in his hand.

"Alright.", Eve sighed in response, betraying the emotions she felt within herself. Wall-E gave her a spark kiss, to make certain that Eve was feeling better. Wall-E's presence had been Eve's sole consolation during these trying times, and the knowledge that her he was safe with her seemed to be what made her sleep soundly at night. Wall-E released his grip on Eve's hand, and motioned for her to wait. He re-entered the abandoned warehouse that served as their temporary home, and came back with one of the trinkets he had brought when they left-the BnL lighter WALL-E had shown EVE when they had first met. He flicked it open, and turned the spark-wheel, producing a bright orange flame.

"H-...hop...", Wall-E tried to pronounce.

"Hope?", Eve replied.

Her companion nodded. Although Wall-E was incapable of articulate speech, Eve fully understood what he meant. The small flame that burned before them symbolized their hope for the future, and their love for each other. As long as the flames of hope burned within each of them, they would have little to fear. Needless to say, Eve finally slept soundly that night.

* * *

**11:30 a.m.**

**Sigma Intervention R&D Laboratory**

The corporal took a sip of coffee in an effort to keep himself awake. The scene that was taking place behind the one-way window he was standing in front of was gruesome, to say the least. The captured Scrapper leader was placed on what appeared to be a large dissection table, and above him was a menacing apparatus that bristled with a wide array of scanners, saws, and needles, one of which was jammed into the right eye socket of the unfortunate commander. A small holographic display of the operation's progress appeared in front of the Corporal.

"What's that _thing_ doing to him?", Ryker asked.

"That machine is currently searching through his memories, and making a mess of it. I feel sorry for the poor sap who has clean-up duty this time.", the Corporal responded before yawning. A look of frustration fell upon other mercenary's face.

"Memories? We lost three of our guys for memories?! How does this guy's memories get us closer to finding those two robots and getting paid?!", Private Ryker questioned in exasperation.

"Relax, man. The machine sorts through all of the memories for us. Any useful information is filed into a convenient digital folder, while the rest is put into storage. Besides, it's almost done." the Corporal replied.

A chime signaled the end of the memory splicing process. The image of a folder designated, 'Category: Lander personnel', appeared on the window. After searching through each of the files, the Corporal came across something very intriguing.

"Well, I'll be damned. It's a hit list. This guy must've been a former Lander, considering all of the people and robots he has on here.", the Corporal said in astonishment.

"So the Scrappers were planning to capture any Landers that have ever been in contact with Wall-E and Eve?"

"Exactly. And now we're going to do the same.", the Corporal replied, realizing the irony of the situation.

"Well, who's first on the list?", Ryker questioned eagerly.

"Some cleaner bot; M-O unit 101."


	4. Chapter 3 - Contaminate

_"All warfare is based on deception. Hence, when able to attack, we must seem unable; when using our forces, we must seem inactive; when we are near, we must make the enemy believe we are far away; when we are far away, we must make the enemy believe we are near." - Sun Tzu, The Art of Warfare_

_"The Lander scum think themselves invulnerable within their cities. Ha! We will show them the error of their ways, my brothers, starting today. There is more than one way to fight a war..." - General Crestor of the Human Dominance Coalition_

* * *

Chapter 3: Contaminate

**June 1st, 2955**

**2:00 p.m.**

**New Chicago Financial District**

This was not one of M-O's best days. Earlier, he had been attending to his regular cleaning duties, safe in one of the high-rise apartments in the center of New Chicago. Now, he was trying to avoid being trampled as hundreds of people were trying to evacuate the building. It didn't help that the building violently shook from time to time, and nearly caused several civilians to crush M-O beneath their body weight. Suddenly, M-O felt himself being lifted off the ground. The cleaner bot attempted to free himself from whoever was holding him, but the effort was in vain. To M-O's relief, the person carrying him was one of the building's security guards. With an expression of concern on his face, the lone security guard lowered the cleaning bot.

"There you are, M-O. You need to get out of here; from what I hear, there's terrorists on the lower levels! The military will be here soon, but I need to get you to the roof ASAP! Hold onto my backpack, and we'll be fine!", the guard shouted over the chaos of the crowd.

M-O warbled in acquiescence. Despite the disheveled and unfamiliar features of the Lander security guard, the microbe obliterator was confident that he was in capable hands. As they ascended, M-O tried hard to suppress the multiple questions floating around in his head. Who were these terrorists? Why were they attacking? How did they manage to strike this deep within the city? All the answers eluded him. Little did MO know that the answers were only a few floors below him...

* * *

Robert Thax leveled his weapon at the cowering civilians that lay before him. Infiltrating New Chicago was the easy part of the plan-no one could really tell who they were with the civilian clothes they were wearing. Their body armor and weapons had been taken from the building's security personnel, and now they were holding hostages. These people were the scum his commanders had been talking about since his first days of training. These were the corrupt worms that reveled in their wealth while many were left to rot in the outer limits of the city. These were monsters that used machines to enforce their iron-fisted rule. But despite all of the atrocities these people had supposedly committed, the young soldier did not feel hatred towards them. As a soldier of the Human Dominance Coalition, he was constantly drilled to hate the Landers and Scrappers. Many of his comrades despised their enemies with a burning passion, and derogatorily called them the "enemies of expansion".

As for Robert himself, he only joined the military in order to protect his younger brother from the horrors of war. If he had to strike fear into the heart of his enemies to save his family, then he would gladly carry out his orders; so he gave one of the hostages a good smack with his rifle's stock to keep him from getting any ideas. Suddenly, a bright light blinded him momentarily, and something knocked off his feet.

"Snipers! Get to cover!", yelled one of Robert's teammates.

The HDC trooper crawled towards a nearby desk, and felt a sharp pain in his torso. The sight of flesh seared by a grazing laser bolt greeted the soldier's eyes. He strained his head to look for his other comrades in spite of the pain.

"Thax! Draw their fire! I'll take out the snipers!", one of the troopers yelled.

Mustering every ounce of his strength, Robert took off his helmet and mounted it on the barrel of his rifle. Then, he lifted it up just enough to make it look like he was sticking his own head over the desk. A few seconds later, a laser bolt tore through the helmet and nearly missed Thax's head. Unfortunately for the Lander sniper that had taken cover in the opposite building, he had just given away his position. A returning shot from an HDC marksman quickly silenced him.

"Nice work Thax. Oh sh-!"

Before the Coalition sniper could finish his statement, the group of soldiers found themselves surrounded by combat EVE probes. Thax assumed the Lander military had developed some sort of cloaking technology after their fight with the Scrappers, and the sniper had been a diversion.

The EVE probes stunned all of the surviving soldiers before any of them attempted to make a last stand. Before Robert's vision faded to black, his thoughts were of his brother back at home...

Robert Thax, soldier of the Human Dominance Coalition, died from his wounds shortly after he and his squad were captured by Lander forces. His younger brother received the news two weeks later.

* * *

After what seemed like an eternity, M-O and the Lander guard had reached the rooftop. Waiting for them was a hovering dropship, with an expectant-looking crew inside. The small robot jumped when he saw a beam of light come from one of the nearby towers.

"That must be the Lander military. We need to get you out of here before the fighting gets worse. Come on, M-O.", the security guard said before entering the waiting aircraft. The security guard gently set down M-O in a nearby seat, and then sat down in his own. The cleaning unit felt safe once the dropship flew farther and farther away from the fighting, and hoped that he could return to his regular cleaning routine soon. However, as the ride continued, M-O noticed something very peculiar: they were flying very far from the city. Oddly enough, the dropship wasn't even heading towards any nearby Lander security stations.

Noticing the worried look in the robot's eyes, the guard tried to reassure the microbe obliterator. "Don't worry, M-O. It's just standard security procedure; we don't know if the entire city has been compromised, so we're just flying towards the farthest city from here. It'll be a while 'till we get there, so why don't rest? You look pretty tired."

M-O agreed; being in danger was pretty exhausting. After taking one last glance at the rapidly fading city, he went into sleep mode. When he awoke, he was greeted by a startling sight: a large corporate building, with the words, 'Sigma Intervention', in very large print at the top. This was no Lander base...this was a PMC* building!

"Huh?!", he warbled in surprise.

"Oh, this? Just calm down, M-O. We've been working with mercenaries for a while now.", the security guard told him before giving another dropship passenger behind M-O a slight nod. While M-O was focused on the security guard, the other man pulled out a small red device from his pocket.

"Just relax. Everything is going to be-", the guard started. In a flash, the man standing behind M-O placed the device on the cleaner bot's head, and pressed the button, making M-O collapse back into his box-like form.

"-fine.", the 'security guard' finished.

"That was a close one. Damn, now I owe Dregs a few credits. I never thought you'd be able to pass for a Lander, Corporal. Good work.", Ryker, the man who had deactivated M-O, said while giving his fellow mercenary a pat on the shoulder.

"Thanks, but tell Sergeant Zidek that I'm not doin' anymore acting jobs; I think I was actually starting to care for the little bot!", said the Corporal half-jokingly.

"Well, you won't have to worry about this little guy. Once we search its memories for anything important, we'll wipe this bot's memory of this whole day. It'll wake up, and this will all be just a bad dream. If robots have dreams, that is."

"How are we supposed to return him to the Landers without them suspecting anything?", the Corporal replied questioningly.

"Let the bosses take care of that. Come on, we got more clues to look for."

* * *

"This is the Lander News Network with a breaking news report! After the thwarted terrorist attack earlier today, Captain Michaelson issued a motivational speech to the public. The following audio clip is an excerpt from the speech."

"For years we have lived by the ideals set forth by Captain MCcrea, a man who was undoubtedly ten times the leader I could ever hope to be. Now, as war rages within the very walls of our cities, we must remember not to fall into the clutches of despair and fear. We have been the victims of intimidation and violence since the beginning of this war. It's time for that to change."

There was a slight pause in the speech, as if the Captain was letting the full weight of his words sink in, and keeping the audience in anticipation.

"Tomorrow we launch the largest military offensive since the 21st century. If any of our enemies are listening to this, know that you will be spared the fate of complete and utter destruction if you relinquish your hostilities with us for the good of humanity. If you do not, then we will not hesitate to avenge the thousands of lives you have taken, whether man or machine."

* * *

The Corporal and Ryker stood beside a cold, metal table. On it rested a deactivated M-O, with a multitude of wires connected to his head. Both men were discussing various topics of interest while waiting for the computer to download vital information from the cleaner bot's central processing unit. One of the topics struck up a particularly interesting conversation: their two primary objectives.

"Did you ever know WALL-E and EVE, Corporal? I mean, you were around before the war started." Ryker asked his fellow mercenary.

"Not personally, but I've seen 'em once. I was born in Solaris, one of the cities that's in Dominance territory now, long after the Axiom's landing. Those two dropped by when I was in high school for some assembly about the environment, or something. What about you?"

"Me? Well, I grew up in a place that's in Scrapper territory now. Most of the kids hated robots, and would always paint graffiti of WALL-E and EVE burning.", Ryker said before chuckling to himself, and continued, "We'd always wait at the windows of our houses to be ready to throw water balloons whenever we heard news that those two were comin' to our town..."

"Man, even I didn't hate machines that much when I was a kid!", the Corporal said in surprise.

"Really? Well I'd say you had an unfulfilled childhood!", the other mercenary said with a smirk.

"Oh yeah? Well you can-wait. Hold on."

"What's the matter? Too old to come up with an insult?"

"Shut up Ryker. There's a message from Sarge on the computer."

"What does it say?"

"It says that the Landers are gonna be launching a full-scale invasion into Dominance territory, and listen to this: the Landers want us to be part of the first assault! There's more though: the HDC is willing to pay us a huge amount of credits if we help defend their cities!", the Corporal said to Ryker, while secretly hoping that his home city wasn't on the list of targets.

"So who're we going to fight with?"

"Like you said before-let the bosses take care of that."

* * *

**First off, I want to thank you for reading this far into the story, and for that I'm going to do something special.**

**At this point, the story can diverge into two seperate paths-depending on which contract the mercenaries take. I'll let you decide who the mercenaries choose to fight with: the Landers or the Human Dominance Coalition. Simply leave a review telling me who the mercs should fight with, and I'll be sure to write the next chapters accordingly. **

**Here's the possible titles of the next chapter: **

**Hammer of the Righteous (mercs help Landers)**

**OR**

**Fear No Death (mercs help HDC, aka 'Dominance)**

**NOTE: This is NOT a Choose Your Own Adventure story, because this is one of the two times where I'll let the readers make a decision in the entire story. The other reader-decision is at the very end of the story.**

***PMC is short for Private Military Corporation**

**Here's a short preview of each chapter:**

* * *

_(Hammer of the Righteous)_

_The Corporal watched as the Lander heavy armor came down the captured supply route. The mercenary platoon had checked for anti-tank mines along the road earlier, and had found none; even though the tanks used propulsion technology to float, the Corporal's platoon leader didn't want to take the risk. While the technology level of the HDC wasn't as advanced as the Landers, the mercenaries weren't willing to underestimate the enemy. To do so, of course, was the route to an early grave. Several divisions of EVE probes and Lander soldiers followed behind the armored convoy. _

_Many of the soldiers took a glance at the guns-for-hire that stood by the side of the road; the Corporal even caught a few glares of contempt from some of the EVE probes. Despite the mutual hatred the Corporal had for the EVEs, he couldn't blame them; they had every right not to trust men who would likely kill them in their sleep if paid to do so. Despite the wealth they acquired from contracts, mercenaries quickly learned that trust was a commodity they could only afford amongst each other. People who hired soldiers of fortune were just as likely to stab them in the back._

_Surprisingly, a few of the Lander troops seemed genuinely happy to see them; some even waved to the mercenary platoon and shouted words of encouragement. The platoon waved back, and grinned underneath their skull-faced helmets, knowing that appreciation for them was hard to come by. It would make assaulting the city a lot easier. When both mercenary and Lander forces finally amassed within sight of the city, they were shocked to the core. _

_Again contradictory to the intelligence Lander command had provided them, the HDC military was well fortified around the Aegis City perimeter. Miles upon miles of concrete trenches, pill boxes, and miniature fortresses greeted them in an almost hellish embrace. The city itself was encircled by a towering steel wall, which bristled with firing ports for artillery and small arms. Trying to find a route around the massive defense network was virtually impossible; the only way to get to Aegis City was to go through and hope not to get slaughtered. If they were going to take this city, the Corporal figured, then they were going to need to pray for a miracle._

* * *

_(Fear No Death_)

_Hold the line men! Give no quarter to the Lander scum!", Colonel Engar roared above the thunder. Aegis City was his home, and he would be damned if he let even one of his enemies set a single foot in it. A stray plasma bolt flew over his head as he barked orders, causing some of the soldiers beside him to duck down in fear. With a calm demeanor, he pulled out an incendiary grenade and tossed it into the charging Landers. A massive fireball erupted several meters in front of him, and charred corpses were tossed about like ragdolls. However, more EVE probes advanced through the flames, seemingly unaffected by the carnage around them. Just before one of the probes could fire a shot directly at Engar's head, the group of robots were engulfed in a bright blue field, and fell to the ground in lifeless heaps._

_"Need some help?", called a gritty, mechanical voice behind the Colonel._

_Engar turned his head, and saw a soldier wearing advanced power armor bearing the logo of Sigma Intervention on his right shoulder plate. In his left hand rested a a strange rifle, which brimmed with a glowing blue light. An EK-7 electro-rifle, notoriously dubbed the 'EVE killer' amongst any militant groups who were able to get their hands on such a weapon._

_"Mercenary,", the grizzled Colonel said through gritted teeth, "where is the rest of our reinforcements?"_

_The PMC contractor only extended his right index finger into the air in response. As Engar turned his head skyward, he could hear shouts and cheers amongst his fellow troops. Several squadrons of air-to-ground gunships came soaring in, and blanketed the no-man's land between the trenches and forest with plasma bombs. The Colonel and his men had to shield their eyes to prevent becoming blind from the intense light. Once they opened their eyes, they saw that the majority of the Lander assault force had been turned into ash, and the survivors were in full retreat. The Colonel took the time to admire this before giving the orders that came straight from HDC command. _

_"Fix bayonets men! Drive these invaders to the grave!"_


End file.
